


Domestic Life Was Never Quite My Style

by Gryphoness



Series: Family Means Nobody Gets Left Behind [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asperger Syndrome, Asperger's Tommen, Bonding, Dyslexia, Family Feels, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, Multi, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Promotion to Parent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-15 21:53:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7239916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gryphoness/pseuds/Gryphoness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaime had never though of himself as the childrearing type. He though he would never have to deal with children for more than a few minutes. But after his the deaths of his sister and brother-in-law, he finds himself the guardian of his young niece and nephew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Flame That Flickers Out Too Soon

The phone rang in the middle of the night, and waking up to the ringing sent a fizzle of anxiety up Jaime’s spine. Phone calls at night never heralded good news, that was just a fact of life. Hitting the Answer button on his cell, he brought the device to his ear and slurred out a sleepy “Hello?”

  
“Is this Jaime Lannister?” The voice from the other end of the line was cool and crisp, despite the late hour – 12:30, Jaime noted from a quick glance at the clock – and the sound of it seemed to wake him up a little more. "Yeah,” he answered, “I mean, yes, I’m him.”

  
“Mr. Lannister, I’m calling from King’s Landing General Hospital. You were listed as the emergency contact for your sister, a Mrs. Cersei Baratheon.”

  
_Cersei_. Cersei was in the hospital. Without thinking, he climbed out of bed, phone still pressed to his ear, and started looking for his shoes. “What happened to her?”

  
The line was silent for a moment, and then the receptionist answered tightly, “There was an accident. I’m sorry, sir, I think it might be best if you come here before we tell you anything else.”

 

* * *

 

The hospital doors hissed softly as he approached, sliding open with a mechanical ease to let him pass. The florescent lights glared harshly down, and he fought off a hint of nausea at the memories threatening at the edges of his brain.

  
“I’m here about my sister,” he snapped at the lady behind the desk, “Cersei Baratheon,” Her married name tasted sour on his tongue, wrong, that fat bastard had never deserved her, and any reminder of her tether to him was bitter. “I’m Jaime Lannister, I just got a call.”

  
The receptionist gave him a long look, and directed him to a police officer Jaime hadn’t noticed sitting nearby.

  
“I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Lannister,” the officer said quietly, “But your sister’s family was in an accident earlier this evening, out on the highway. The doctors did their best, but she, her husband, and their son didn’t make it.”

  
Jaime’s ears were ringing, and it felt like the bottom of his stomach had dropped out. No, there must have been a mistake. Cersei couldn’t be dead. She couldn’t have died without him, wouldn’t have. She had always say that they would leave the world together, as they had entered it.

  
But then, in the midst of the hurricane in his mind, his brain latched onto a detail.

“You…you said _their son._ Cersei has…she had three kids.”

The officer nodded. “Yes, sir. Her younger two children made it out with just some scrapes and bruises.”

 _Her younger two_ , Jaime thought, _Myrcella and Tommen_. Younger than Joffrey, by a few years, if he remembered correctly. Still just little children, and now deprived of mother, father, and brother all in one fell swoop. Though he had never paid much attention to the two of them, Jaime felt a pang of sympathy for the pair. He knew how it felt to lose a parent, and for them to lose a majority of their immediate family all at once…

“Are they here? Can I see them?”  


 

* * *

  
  
A nurse showed him to a small room in the E.R., and Jaime opened the door to find another police officer sitting in one of the plastic chairs. Across the room, on the examination table, sat his niece and nephew. They were sitting close together, practically on one another’s lap, and Myrcella had one arm holding Tommen close to her side, as if she could somehow shield his tiny body with her own.

In her free hand, the girl held a little stuffed bear to her chest. Next to her, little Tommen clutched a stuffed cat as if it was the only thing holding him to the planet.  
“Uncle Jaime!” The thin paper covering the exam table crinkled as Myrcella leaned forward.

“Mr. Lannister,” the officer stood and shook his hand, “Officer Balon Swann, at your service. sir. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Jaime had never given much thought to her sister’s children, but the sight of the ones she had left behind, so alone and miserable in this tiny room, made his heart ache. “What will happen to them? Do you know?”

Officer Swann nodded. “You’re listed in your sister’s will as the guardian of her children, should anything happen to her and Mr. Baratheon.”

Jaime bit his lip.

 


	2. What To Say To You?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a while and it's not as long as I'd like it to be, but I finally had it sitting around long enough that I decided to just post it. Hope you enjoy, lovelies.

Jaime peered cautiously into the spare room of his apartment, taking in the sight of his niece and nephew, curled together like a pair of kittens in the bed. He hadn't thought to stop and get their pajamas or anything of the sort, it had been so late and they had been so tired. Their clothes, the same ones they'd been wearing since the previous morning, were rumpled and stained - Jaime didn't allow himself to consider what the dried splatters of dark liquid were. He didn't think he would be able to hold his supper down if he let himself think too much about it.

Tommen slept curled into a ball, like the stuffed cat he still clutched. Myrcella had one arm slung over him, guarding her brother even in sleep. She was only a year older, but the little girl had already proven to be exceedingly protective of him. -- Jaime thought of his own childhood, and the way Cersei had given a violent tongue-lashing to anyone who dared insinuate that Jaime's dyslexia made him unintelligent. His father used to say that the Lannisters were fierce as lions, and Jaime often thought that Lannister women were lionesses to cow even the bravest men. 

The two children were so very young, and had already been through so much. He wondered what they were dreaming about, if in their minds they were home, their brother and parents alive and well. He didn't want to wake them.

"Uncle Jaime?" Myrcella was stirring, rubbing sleepily at her eyes in that familiar, endearing way all children had. Her teddy bear was half pinned under her little body as she propped herself up on an elbow, and the sight was oddly charming. Her curls were tousled from sleep, and one side of her face was red from where it had rested on her arm. 

"Myrcella -- How did you sleep?" As soon as the words left his mouth, Jaime wanted to kick himself. The girl has just become an orphan and one brother shorter than she had been, and he opens with _How did you sleep?_ Pathetic. 

"Okay, I guess." The Seven be thanked, Myrcella didn't seem to notice his flub in etiquette. Sitting up slowly, she kept one arm still wrapped around the sleeping form of her brother. To Jaime, it felt like looking into a memory, looking at himself and Cersei as children.

"How does breakfast sound?" he ventured cautiously. Breakfast seemed like it would be harmless. Nothing dangerous or touchy in breakfast. At the suggestion, Myrcella seemed to snap fully awake.

"Can we have pancakes?"

Pancakes. That didn't sound so hard. Just pour some batter into a skillet. Simple. He could do pancakes. "Sure, kid. Pancakes it is."

She beamed at him, her little face alight, and Jaime couldn't help but smile back.

"Tommen--" Myrcella turned away from him, gently shaking her brother, "Tomm, wake up, Uncle Jaime's making pancakes!"

* * *

 Tommen was dribbling honey onto his pancake, and Jaime wasn't sure whether to question his nephew's taste or start stocking up on bottles of honey.

The boy had barely made a peep since he woke up, instead sticking close to his sister's side and nodding in agreement when Myrcella spoke.

"I was thinking we could go by your old house today," Jaime offered as he cleaned up the dishes, "We can get some of your things, and a few sets of clean clothes."

Tommen leaned over to Myrcella and whispered something in her ear. She nodded seriously and then turned back to Jaime. "We'd like that, Uncle."

* * *

 He felt remarkably awkward, standing in the living room of his sister's house as his new charges gathered their things. He couldn't help but feel as though he should help -- Yet, at the same time, what could he do? All around the room, he was surrounded by artifacts of a life, a life in which he'd only had a supporting role, and in which three participants were no longer a part.

How could this have happened? How could he be existing in a world that no longer contained his twin? How could three lives have been snuffed out so quickly, so abruptly? In books and movies, when someone was going to die, it was expected. You could see it coming from far away, and you had time to say goodbye. Jaime had learned long ago that life wasn't like that. Death was not picturesque. Death kept to its own schedule.

A soft noise drew him out of his thoughts. Tommen was standing in the doorway, watching him. It was the first time they'd been in the same room just the two of them.

"Hi," Jaime breathed, "Hi there. Do you need help?"

The boy shook his head, watching him soundlessly, with big, dark eyes. His stuffed cat dangled by a paw from one of his hands. Jaime didn't think he had put the toy down once since the night before. It was obviously new, still clean and in pristine condition, not something he would have had long.

Sat at Tommen's feet was a small backpack. On the front, a cartoon bear frolicked happily, a red balloon anchored to one paw. The sight gave Jaime an idea -- Children liked jokes, didn't they?

"Hey, Tommen?" He knelt to meet his nephew's eye-level, "Do you know why bears have hairy coats?"

Tommen's brow furrowed, obviously puzzled. After a moment, he shook his head no.

Jaime cracked a smile, hoping to ease. _"Fur_ protection."

Tommen stared at him a moment longer, but then the joke caught up with him, and he started to giggle. As if surprised by himself, his eyes widened and he covered his mouth with his free hand. 

Jaime felt a small portion of the giant knot in his stomach loosen. He might not know much about raising children, but if could get these kids to relax, well, that was at least a start.


End file.
